Conjunctivitis
by RawrFangMonster
Summary: Tony's life consists of a series of repeats.


A/N: I'm on a roll, today...

Enjoy.

* * *

><p>Pepper went into Tony's room without knocking. After a few embarrassing starts, they'd got into a rhythm. If he wasn't up by nine on a week day, she was allowed to come in without asking. He'd better have boxers on.<p>

A kind of sagging lump lay on the bed, twisted in sheets. Expensive sheets. She moved over.

Tony blearily groped for Pepper's hand. "Peps, something's up with my beautiful vision. I can't see your shapely legs, or sparkling blue eyes. It's distressing."

Pepper, ignoring the comment, examined his head. "Your eyes are kind of gross. I think you have conjunctivitis. I'll get some drops for you, and then it'll go away."

He slumped back against the pillows. "How the fuck did I get conjunctivitis?"

"Well, I'd say it was when you bedded that rather sickly girl the other night," Pepper sniffed.

With wide, gunky eyes, Tony replied hastily. A reputation was at stake here.

"Peps, I didn't 'bed' her. She was a leech. An ill leech. And- well, I've been off the radar in that department lately. Anyway, you gotta be healthy for the Big T."

Pepper blinked. "The Big T? Seriously?"

At Tony's enthusiastic nod and muttered comment about 'Mr. T was already taken', she continued. "So...no sleeping with sick girls, and...no sleeping at all lately? Is that true?"

"Have you had to chase anyone away? I've been goddamned celibate, and it's really, really bad and kind of embarrassing. Please don't tell Rhodey."

"But – and this is a bit personal, though I _am_ your personal assistant and I think that's close enough – _why_?"

Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. "After- after Afghanistan, they just weren't cutting it. I've become reacquainted with my hand."

"Ew," said Pepper in disgust, "I didn't need to know that. But, well, it's kind of surprising. Afghanistan was a long time ago, what, seven months now?"

"Really reacquainted."

"Er, okay, I think it's time for a topic change. I'm still sure that sick girl passed it on. So, I'll go order some drops, and then if it doesn't get better in a couple of days, Happy'll take you to the doctor."

"Don't they do house calls anymore? I don't want to be seen in public with gross eyes," Tony whined.

"No, not even for you, Big T."

He sighed, a long and deep sigh that left Pepper a little bit tingly.

* * *

><p>A few hours later, the big black Rolls Royce screeched into the parking lot at the ER.<p>

"Quick, quick, Happy, get him in!"

* * *

><p>Pepper entered Tony's hospital room without knocking. The rhythm thing, and all.<p>

A kind of sagging lump lay on the bed, twisted in sheets. Cheap, hospital sheets. Pepper moved over.

Tony blearily groped for Pepper's hand. "Peps, as of today, I'm going to add a few million to the funding of this place. These sheets are killing me."

"I'm sure they'd appreciate that. They do seem rather awful."

"They're a nauseating green. I thought hospital sheets were meant to be white. Maybe this is there idea of adding a little colour to the place..."

Pepper chuckled. "Probably."

Tony sighed, getting down to business. "How the fuck did I have an allergic reaction to the drops?"

"I don't know, Tony. It was a rather spectacular reaction, too. Your eyes started foaming, and you couldn't stop coughing..."

"I think I might remember that bit, Pepper. It was kind of hard to forget," said Tony, dryly.

"Don't ya hate that girl for giving it to you?"

"No. I hate conjunctivitis. And conjunctivitis drops. They're repulsive."

Pepper laughed. "Your body agrees with you."

They sat in a comfortable silence for a while. And then came the question Pepper had been dreading since the Big T's admission.

"Peps, when can I go home?"

* * *

><p>"Pepper, please. Please stop ignoring me. I didn't mean to piss off the hospital staff so royally. It was an accident. I just wanted to go home. Please?"<p>

Large, liquid eyes begged for forgiveness. Pepper decided that she had been quite strong enough the past day and a half for her point to have been made, and made well, and that she shouldn't have to fend off these adorable attacks any longer. Although, she thought, while _resisting_ was difficult, she wouldn't have the pleasure of _receiving_ the pleas once it was 'all okay'.

But as his face lit up she decided it was not so bad at all. Besides the pathetic look, while gorgeous, did not suit him.

"I'm really glad they found an alternative method of fixing my eyes. I didn't like having conjunctivitis at all."

She smiled. "I don't think anyone does. Now, do you want an omelette?"

Tony looked a mixture of pleasantly surprised, pathetically grateful, and slightly rueful at her offer. Pepper went weak at the knees. What was she talking about, of course the pathetic look suited him.

"Oh yes, please. Thank you, Pepper."

She smiled, and turned to leave.

"Oh and don't think I've been missing those looks, either," he continued. "I may have been as good as blind, but I'm not dumb. Don't worry, I didn't like the celibate thing anyway." He winked outrageously at her.

"...You can make your own damn omelette," she growled, and stalked off.

* * *

><p>A few hours later, the big black Rolls Royce screeched into the parking lot at the ER.<p>

"Quick, quick, Happy, get him in!"

* * *

><p>Pepper entered Tony's hospital room without knocking. We've been over this, now.<p>

A very miserable sagging lump lay on the bed, twisted in sheets. The same cheap, hospital sheets. Pepper moved over.

Tony blearily groped for Pepper's hand. He instantly let go, howling.

Reproachful dark eyes settled on hers. "Pepper, I blame you," he accused.

Pepper shrugged. "Not my fault you decided to insult me and then actually listen to me for once and try to cook yourself an omelette. And then horrifically burn your hands. Who does that?"

Tony frowned to himself. "I told you, Jarvis heard you say something about making it hot, and without my knowledge busted up the temperature to something obscenely high. Of course, the new stove unwisely does not have a light to show whether it's on or not, and when I put my hands down, bam! Instant, blinding pain."

She nodded sagely. "I used to have that problem a lot. Wait, no I didn't. I _always_ checked the temperature gauge and I _never_ put my hands on the top. Seemed to serve me well so far."

Tony rolled his eyes impatiently. "Whatever. Point is, I won't be able to sign for a few weeks. Nor work on the suit." His face dropped. "Nor fix my toaster. Nor drive the R8. Nor walk Whiskey – goddammit, I'm an invalid."

Pepper cocked her head. "I once knew a Tony who would happily take advantage of facing a fortnight of being waited on hand and foot."

"Yeah, I knew him, too. He's still around, only he knows 'cause he did something stupid and you're mad it isn't going to be as fun. And his hands _really hurt_."

"Well, maybe next time you shouldn't piss off the hospital staff and get readmitted when they're on their next shift so that they can cut your painkillers."

"I _knew_ you weren't all right about that yet."

She shrugged. "It's just karma. And besides, now I have an actual excuse for putting off that meeting with that patronising idiot from Accounts. Does this place have TiVo?"

Tony gingerly groped about his pillow. Holding up the remote triumphantly, he grinned happily.

"You know that last couple of million, before the sheets dilemma? Here it is."

"Appreciate your foresight."

Tony cupped his ear exaggeratedly and raised his voice. "What was that, Pepper? Appreciate your _foreskin_?"

"Oh my god. Two weeks of this. I won't last."

* * *

><p>AN2 This started as a...I don't know what the fuck it means.


End file.
